Master's Residency Retreat Reflection

I want to get arrested. I have always resonated with the actions of the apostles. “The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.” I want to be on the frontline addressing social justice, but at the same time I live in rural Michigan among working class people. I have to come to terms with what it means to engage in the fight for justice here.

While my community doesn’t see many homeless on the streets (if there are any I am blind to it) in many ways the people are subject to injustice. There is one factory that sits empty most of the time and struggles to stay open when a new owner takes it over. The last owners made good on a threat to close the plant if the workers unionized. The majority of people in my congregation are retirees receiving pensions from GM. The status of the auto industry and concessions the UAW allow affects their health insurance and incomes. A few of my parishioners are ex-cons faced with the difficulty of reintegrating in to society with the added strain of a jobless market. Our downtown is empting out, as business after business can’t make it. Our young families are either moving away or work in another town and don’t connect with the community or local churches. In very real ways some the work of social justice involves the people sitting in my pews and the people living on my block. How can I address these issues? Is there a time when I might be persecuted for making a prophetic stand against injustice?

Community

Reading Shane Claiborne’s book, Becoming The Answer To Our Prayers, I resonated with the new monastic concept of community. When my wife and I were first married, we ran across and article on theooze.com about singles and married couples with children living in community . We were intrigued and drawn to the idea. It has long been a goal of ours to live in community in a big house with people and start micro-churches. A number of years back I wrote a story and play for families based on 1 John 5 that was set on a moon colony. The moon colony was what I called a neo-monastic commune. My ideas about how that would work were surprisingly close to what Shane and the new monastics call the twelve marks of new monasticism.

In Acts just after the first account of Peter and John being released from the clutches of the Sanhedrin, the young church prays for boldness, the house is shaken and they are again filled with the Spirit. It is in that context Luke notes something interesting. “All the believers were in one heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had.” I’ve always been able to almost feel the camaraderie of the community in the early church. I long for the relationships, the closeness, and the generosity that the family of God had then. It has been said by many that this kind of communism couldn’t be sustained. But couldn’t it really? Not as a social system but as the outflow of love and commitment?

There is an intimacy to worship. In a gathering that lacks community, lacks intimacy and the shared journey of faith, I have found myself distrustful of sharing my worship with others. I almost feel jealousy toward these others claiming to love my Jesus. In our retreat I did not have any of these feelings. I was surrounded by like seekers. Our journeys had brought us together on parallel tracks for a time. I could worship in true freedom and with an intimacy that comingled with the others in the room. This I think is the family of God!

My own cohort is especially a dear example of what the church is to be. Our love for each other is unfeigned and without condition. As much as I may cherish my worries about how cool or un-cool I am, how annoying or foolish I may come across my cohort expressed love for me that denied these concerns. This concern for each other extends in our sharing and praying for each other as we in real ways bear up one another’s burdens (and continue to do so as we are home).
My cohort shocked me with their love. I was embarrassed to tell them (as I am embarrassed to admit now) that I came to Philadelphia with empty pockets. The only transportation I could afford was catching a ride with the SAU team and committed myself to the added cost of eating and an extra night in the hotel. Elaine gave me her Christmas bonus from work, which we had picked up on our way, which paid for my food. When we got to the hotel I swiped my debit card knowing that it would cause and overdraft back home. I had to tell my crying wife that I was too ashamed to ask for help from one of my friends.

As we talked about the frustrations we had with our attempts at social justice, I related to my cohort that I was ashamed that my family was on food stamps and I couldn’t provide for them. Then I found myself telling them what coming to Philly had meant for my family. They prayed for me and that was all I wanted. It was a beautiful prayer that delved into the real concerns of my heart, the church and family I left at home. They didn’t stop there, however. They took up a collection! They provided me with over $300 and paid my way back home. I am humbled. As I write this tears well up at the realization of the love of the family of God.

It has been said at every residency retreat, “this is what the body of Christ looks like.” This is true.

The abandoned places

Whispered echoes keep coming back to me from the places the new monastic communities find a home – the abandoned places. Setting up shop as disciples in the abandoned places of the world seems dear to me. I think about my friends Steve and Roderick buying an abandoned house for a dollar in the desolate lesser cathedral district of Saginaw. As they fix it up and inspire others to move into the neighborhood, they are transforming the community.

I think about the abandoned downtown Sebewaing. Could fighting for social justice in my little town mean bringing life back to the downtown – life and hope? For a few years we (the local ministerial) have been working with the school district to better meet the needs of teens. We have started what has been called a movement to start a coffeehouse and restore a movie theater in downtown Sebewaing. The coffeehouse has been located in my church basement for the last couple years, but now, as we look to move it out into the public, it is exciting to see how God is moving. Could God be so interested in this project because moving downtown will somehow free the poor and oppressed in my village? I am excited to see that we are already engaging in the social justice fight and it has been just because we have been trying to follow the leading of God.
What about the abandoned factories and the abandoned houses? Is there any way we can begin to extend our household here? Can our church family begin to share resources, tables and lives in a culture that is so individualistic and independent? Can we share a garden? Tools? Food? How about sharing our spiritual journey? These are the questions that are fire to my mind this month, I pray the fire does not die but is fanned by those who ask the questions with me.

Residency day 1

Today we arrived at Malvern Retreat Center. This place has some amazing sacred space. Turn a corner and you bump into a statue of a saint, as Mojo said. There is an Oratory in both the men and women’s wings. It is a prayer room, rather it is a room that upon entering you are immersed in prayer and must pray. The one on the women’s side has a vaulted ceiling painted in blue with stars. There is a chandelier/mobile in each that both mutes the light and brings the image of heaven. There are kneelers and marble floors. The men’s side evokes the image of the holy of holies. The doors are embossed in gold. Inside four golden pillars hold up a fiery canopy. Across the altar there is a tabernacle for the host. During the retreats put on by the center, the rooms are used for 15 minutes of adoration of the host by each retreating daily.

On the men’s side there is also a statue of Jesus featuring the imagery of his immaculate heart. I noticed this time that his heart is on fire. It is life sized on a pedestal. His left hand gestured to his heart. I could reach up and put my hand on his heart and his outstretched right hand was positioned just right to touch my forehead. It was so life like. I received his blessing; I put my hand around the back of his so to hold it to my head. I love you Jesus!

Tonight Mojo spoke about the road to Emmaus in preparation for communion. We repeated a collect as a refrain through out the service:

Lord Jesus stay with us,
for evening is at hand and the day is past;
be our companion in the way, kindle our hearts,
and awaken hope,
that we may know you as you are revealed in scripture
and the breaking of bread.
Grant this for the sake of your love. Amen.

He had us each take a stone to represent the burdens that accompanied us to the retreat. I thought of the financial burden that plagued Elaine and I as I left. She gave me fifty dollars, that was all we had. When we got to the hotel I had 15 left, and my heart sank as I approached the counter to swipe my card. With heavy heart I told her that I charged our bank account seventy dollars that wasn’t there.

As I approached I grabbed a sharp stone, one that as I pressed it in my hand hurt like the stinging sense of failure I harbored because of our financial situation as well as my weariness. As I looked at the stone it sparkled, it was composed of red and black specks. It was beautiful. “Uh Oh, I find my burden is beautiful, what does that mean.” As I listened to God I sensed his response. Your burden is painful as you clutch it in your hand, but when you release it to me it sparkles. I am strong in your weakness. You see my faithfulness through your troubles.

What are the gifts of the Spirit for?

In the Great Omission, Dallas Willard suggests that experiences of excitement that come with Pentecost do not form character. They are good for many things, but they do not fundamentally change us.

I wrestled with that idea this week. For some time I have been trying to figure out why we have the pentecostal experience. It seems those involved in the Pentecostal Revivals at the turn of the last century were also grasping to understand these things.

Richard Foster suggests that William J Seymour thought the new Pentecost meant racial reconciliation. Unfortunately the work of reconciliation is left undone, but the Pentecostal experience went on.

Others thought that the gift of tongues was for missionary work and thought that they didn't need to learn a language to speak to the people in another land. So they went and many discovered that it didn't usually work that way.

In the end we settled out with the Pentecostal baptism meaning the soon return of Christ. Many churches took out mortgages with no intention of repaying them because Christ was coming back soon. Well its been 100 years and he hasn't come.

Pentecostal experience is waining in our churches and small wonder. Why should we be baptized in the Spirit? All of these reasons haven't worked out too well. We say it is an empowerment for ministry, but then we also commonly make out that ministry along with discipleship is something optional to Christianity. It then follows that the Baptism in the Spirit is not meant for everyone.

In wrestling with this I wanted to bring the mystical back into it. The full on working of the Spirit experienced in Pentecostal Baptism (total immersion in Him) is a wonderful and intimate thing. So often in Pentecostal tradition, we have seen the working of the Spirit functionally and pragmatically. I was hoping I could make the things of the Spirit about spiritual formation. But along comes Dallas Willard suggesting that those experiences do not effect formation of character to Christlikeness.

Today Dallas sat next to me at lunch, greeting me, "hey Aquaman!" (I was wearing an Aquaman t-shirt). I sat just listening to the conversation around me as I had the previous days Dallas sat near me. Perhaps the explanation of who Aquaman is and his interaction with my family emboldened me to pose the question.

Dallas suggested that the manifestations of the Spirit's working remind us that the Kingdom of Heaven is here. He also noted that the gifts of the Spirit aren't for empowerment for ministry in general but are to meet specific needs in the body. Their use by all Christians, makes the body able to minister to each other through prophesy, words of wisdom, healing and the like. While those goosebump experiences do not form the character of the one being so used, the gifts can help to build others in the body as they are ministered to. They are also not to be isolated from the fruit of the Spirit which are entirely about character formation.

In the end it is more functional and practical than even pentecostal have commonly made it, but it is also more profound and foundational.

Coventry Cathedral Prayer

Hallowed be Thy Name in Industry:
God be in my hands and in my making.

[REFRAIN:]
Holy, Holy, Holy; Lord God of Hosts;
Heaven and earth are full of thy glory.

Hallowed be Thy Name in the Arts:
God be in my senses and in my creating.

[REFRAIN]
Hallowed be Thy Name in the Home:
God be in my heart and in my loving.

[REFRAIN]
Hallowed be Thy Name in Commerce:
God be at my desk and in my trading.

[REFRAIN]
Hallowed be Thy Name in Suffering:
God be in my pain and in my enduring.

[REFRAIN]
Hallowed be Thy Name in Government:
God be in my plans and in my deciding.

[REFRAIN]
Hallowed be Thy Name in Education:
God be in my mind and in my growing.

[REFRAIN]
Hallowed be Thy Name in Recreation:
God be in my limbs and in my leisure.

[REFRAIN]

The body and the blood

Tonight again we celebrated communion. On this retreat it will be a daily experience. How I long to make it more often at home. With the taste of the body and the blood lingering in my mouth, I wondered the grounds at Mater Dolorosa. I stood at a crucifix at the end of the hall. Jesus was at my level and almost my size. He looked to heaven, his "why" frozen on his lips. I could have embraced him had he not been cross bound.

I then made my way around the way of the cross, a pathway marking Jesus' walk to Golgotha. The stations of the cross were vignettes of statues. When Jesus fell, and lay under the soldiers blows or lay across the cross beam the half driven nail in his wrist, the soldiers hammer raised, I sorrowed for him. The taste of his bread and wine returned to my senses. I caressed his suffering face. I remembered him. I took him in. He became a member of me again, or rather I was re-membered as a part of his body.

Hunger

I am so mean and unspiritual. During a silent retreat today, as we focused on waiting, I felt dead and unengaged. I couldn’t get one image out of my mind. And its not what you’d think. I couldn’t stop thinking about the guacamole I had last night - fresh onions and pomegranate! What does that have to do with waiting. I struggled. Maybe I’m just hungry, I thought. Sometimes when I’m fasting, I turn my thoughts of hunger to God. I’m hungry for you. I kept coming back to that. That expectant hunger - Lord increase it! I couldn’t imagine getting up and delivering the image of guacamole to the whole group though. :D